Strangers in the Night
by Holz9364
Summary: Two strangers meet in a dingy pub one Christmas Eve & have a conversation without realising who the other is. Rated M for language!


**Strangers in the Night  
**

It was a late Tuesday evening in December. The snow was falling outside of the pub in Hogsmeade and the people inside were wearing full winter cloaks as they warmed themselves with whiskey. It wasn't just any evening however, it was Christmas Eve.

The pub was almost empty when a middle-aged man limped in, seeking warmth and the comfort of alcohol. He breathed raggedly and made his way shakily towards the bar where only one other occupant was sitting. The man distanced himself, keeping a bar stool between himself and the other man.

'An extra strong double measure of Ogden's firewhiskey,' the man said, his voice slightly raspy and his breath catching.

There was a snort from further along the bar and the man glanced sideways to look at the other man. He had long black hair which was in a ponytail and his ear was pierced, he glanced briefly along the bar and said, 'a drink like that in a place like this on a Tuesday night, there's only one kind of man drinks like that.'

The middle-aged man accepted the drink the barman slid across the bar to him and pushed back his dark blonde fringe from his face, 'and what kind of man would that be?'

'One that's been through about as much shit as I have,' the dark-haired man said.

The light-haired man didn't say anything as he sipped on his firewhiskey; he didn't like to get into conversations with random strangers in pubs.

'So what's your story? There's only 3 reasons a man comes here, either he's been fired, he's seen death or his wife's been sleeping with his boss.'

The light-haired man took a deep drink of his firewhiskey, and kept his gaze on the rotting wood of the bar.

'Matter of fact it's a mixture of all 3,' he said gruffly and the dark-haired man snorted again, 'that bad huh?'

The light-haired man didn't talk about his feelings often, but he felt compelled too, he felt like he could talk to this stranger and not have to worry about it getting out into the press, 'I'm in the middle of a divorce because my wife's been screwing our kids tutor, I'm losing my kid in a custody battle and I just got fired from my job because someone died on my watch.'

'Talk about a tough day at the office,' the dark-haired man said sarcastically, 'I went through it all about 5 years ago.'

'Yeah? Does it get any better?' the light-haired man asked, slightly hopeful.

The dark-haired man barked out a laugh and shook his head, 'another Stan,' he said to the skinny barman who slid another extra strength firewhiskey over to the man.

'No, it most definitely does not,' the dark-haired man said, 'it might start off looking like an amicable divorce, but then you only get to see your kids one week a month and your son hates your guts and wants nothing to do with you,' he shook his head and drank half of the whiskey in one gulp.

'How come a man died on your watch?' The dark-haired man asked, he still hadn't really looked along the bar at the man yet, 'and how come I ain't seen you in this fine establishment before?'

'I don't usually come here,' the light-haired man admitted, 'but I needed to go somewhere where I wouldn't see anyone I knew.'

The dark-haired man barked out another laugh, 'unless you make acquaintances out of crooks and washed out old men then you definitely won't know anyone around here.'

'I spent the last 15 years of my life putting crooks in Azkaban,' the light-haired man said darkly, 'I doubt any of them will be lining up to buy me a drink.'

'A lawyer,' the dark-haired man observed, 'you're brave showing your face in a place like this.'

'I couldn't care less if someone tried to off me right now,' the light-haired man admitted, 'my client was killed right in front of me today when I was supposed to be trying to protect him.'

'You can't have been a very good lawyer then, if you let a client go and die on you,' the dark-haired man said honestly and the light-haired man gave a weak laugh, 'no, I wasn't.'

'If it makes you feel any better, hell even if it doesn't, I just like to tell my bitter old tale,' the dark-haired man began and the barman, Stan, chuckled and said, 'and don't he just?'

The dark-haired man laughed that rough bark-like laugh once more and said, 'I lost my job too, 5 years ago, I killed a man on the job.'

The light-haired man was cautious, 'how did you do that?'

The dark-haired man stared down into his drink, 'I used to be an Auror, top-notch one too, back in the day, you wouldn't believe it now, hell nobody would, but I was. I was on an ordinary mission and then this guy came out of nowhere, a guy who killed a couple of folk that I knew, and I offed him right there without even thinking about arresting him.'

There was a moments silence and then the light-haired man asked, 'so, what do you do now?'

'I'm a curse-breaker, working over in Egypt at the moment, but I'm back for a bit to see my kid,' the dark-haired man said, he didn't seem as excited as a man should be about seeing his children. With another sidelong glance at the man who was staring into his glass the light-haired man did acknowledge that he had fairly dark tanned skin, and he was holding his glass with rough calloused hands.

'How old is your kid?' the light-haired man asked as he ran his fingers over the rim of his glass.

'I've got 3, my oldest boys in 6th year up at the school, got a 4th year too and a 2nd year, my little girl,' the dark-haired man was staring off into the distance.

'I've only got the one, a 4th year too,' the light-haired man said with a sigh, 'he chose his Mother in the custody battle.'

The dark-haired man gave a small nod, 'my oldest can't stand me, pitted against me by my ex-wives brother,' he shook his head, 'thinks I'm some big villain who should be rotting in Azkaban.'

'Mine is pretty much the same,' the light-haired man said as he finished his drink and asked for another, 'the boy believes everything his Mother tells him about me.'

'And what's that? That you're a scummy slimy lawyer?' the dark-haired man asked with a barked out laugh.

The light-haired man grunted, 'pretty much.'

The two men drank in silence for a little longer and then the dark-haired man asked, 'how come you came limping into my bar?'

'I got hurt, a while back now, fought in the second wizarding war,' the light-haired man said.

'Yeah? Me too,' the dark-haired man said, 'wish I hadn't, all it gave me was a bunch of scars I ain't never gonna get rid of and a whole lot of people I wish I could.'

'Yeah? What side were you on then?' the light-haired man asked as he finished his second drink.

'Does it matter anymore? These days anyone who fought for the light is a goddamn hero and anyone who fought for the dark and was loud about it is rotting in Azkaban or drinking in dodgy joints like this one,' the dark-haired man said with a bitter laugh.

'Or working as a scummy lawyer,' the light-haired man added as he started on his 3rd drink.

'Hey like I said, not like it matters anymore, not in a place like this anyway,' the dark-haired man said simply, 'fix me with another Stan.'

The barman slid another firewhiskey to the dark-haired man who added, 'you can't change the past and there ain't no good in thinking about what it would be like if you could, at the end of the day you gotta think about what you're gonna do with your future.'

'Yeah well at the moment I don't have one,' the light-haired man said bitterly, 'I've got no job, no wife and a kid who hates me, what do you do with that?'

'Get a new job, buy a bar and drink a lot of firewhiskey,' the dark-haired man said.

'You own this bar?' the light-haired man asked in surprise, 'last I knew it was owned by that Dumbledore.'

'It was, old Abe died 5 years back and left the pub to me and a friend in his will, I took it on,' the dark-haired man said, 'and if you don't drink here then how come you knew old Abe owned this place?'

'I came here when I was younger,' the light-haired man said, staring down at the bar once more, 'when I was at school here.'

'When were you up at the old school?' the dark-haired man asked.

'90's,' the light-haired man said simply and the dark-haired man finished his drink and slammed it down on the bar, 'about the same as me.'

'Yeah? I remember when McGonagall was just the Transfiguration teacher,' the light-haired man said as he shook his head, 'my boy loves her, thinks she's a great Headmistress, but it was always Dumbledore back in my day.'

'Hell no one can replace Dumbledore, best goddamn Headmaster that sorry excuse for a school ever knew,' the dark-haired man said with a distance look in his eyes.

'You didn't like it either then,' the light-haired man said with a weak snort of laughter.

'Worst years of my life, apart from these last 5,' the dark-haired man said.

'How come for you?' the light-haired man asked and further along the bar the dark-haired man started on his next drink.

'Every year I was there something new cropped up, first it was a goddamn possessed teacher, then a huge fucking snake.'

'A huge fucking snake? What fucking year were you there?' the light-haired man asked, partly in jest, but partly in seriousness.

The man barked a laugh, 'then an escaped convict, and a dark lord rising from the dead.'

'That sorry excuse for a dark lord Voldemort,' the light-haired man joked weakly, causing the dark-haired man to bark out his loudest laugh yet.

'And then to top it off a bloody huge war and a battle, yeah, what a great fucking education I had,' the dark-haired man finished bitterly.

'So you were in 4th year when Voldemort rose and at the end of school when the war ended, you must have been in pretty much the same year as me,' the light-haired man realised, 'when did you start?'

'91,' the dark-haired man said casually as he finished yet another drink, 'you?'

'91 too,' the light-haired man said, glancing sideways at the man at the bar, he didn't recognise him.

'What house were you in?' the light-haired man asked and the dark-haired man replied, 'Gryffindor, not all it was hyped up to be. How about you? I reckon being a slimy ass lawyer like you were you had to be a Slytherin.'

'Yeah, I was, ain't all it was hyped up to be either,' the light-haired man admitted, 'goes to show how times have changed.'

'A Slytherin and a Gryffindor making polite conversation in a dodgy joint like this one, hell if I'd met you 20 years ago I'd have killed you on the spot,' the dark-haired man said with a bark of laughter.

The light-haired man laughed too, 'and I'd have done the same to you.'

'Funny how times change,' the dark-haired man said as he looked along the bar at the light-haired man for the first time, 'isn't it, Malfoy?'

The light-haired man, Malfoy, nodded, 'yeah, it-' he paused and looked along the bar to the man who was now looking straight at him, 'what did you call me?'

'Malfoy,' the dark-haired man said simply, 'it's your name ain't it? Draco Malfoy. Slytherin prince, complete prick extraordinaire, would be murderer of Albus Dumbledore and complete scummy slimy lawyer since then. You haven't changed a bit.'

Malfoy was staring at the other man with wide eyes, 'who _are _you? And how do you know all of this? I don't even remember you! I mean the only Gryffindors who were there in my day in my year, were Weasley which you clearly aren't unless you had a face and body transplant,' the dark-haired man snorted in laughter at this, and Malfoy continued, 'there is no way you're Finnigan, you can't get rid of an Irish accent,' he paused for a drink and then continued, 'and unless you've had a skin transplant you aren't Thomas either, and Longbottom was never that thin.'

The dark-haired man smirked along the bar, 'so who does that leave?' he asked.

'Potter!'

'Took you long enough,' Harry Potter said with an amused smirk, 'Stan, get my old arch nemesis here another drink would you?'

Stan smiled, 'certainly 'Arry,' he said as he slid a firewhiskey across the bar to Malfoy.

'Why are you buying me a drink instead of cursing me into oblivion? 20 years doesn't change that much,' Malfoy said, still completely baffled.

'Hey the same can be said for you Malfoy,' Harry said casually, 'you ain't even reached for your wand yet.'

'How the fuck did you, the golden boy, the chosen prick, the hero of the war, end up owning a dingy place like this and looking like a washed up tramp?' Malfoy asked in amazement as he caught his first proper glance at Harry. He didn't look that different now he knew who he was, but he was no longer wearing glasses, his skin wasn't pale like it had once been and he was covered in piercings and tattoos, the only thing the same was his eyes, they hadn't changed colour.

'Well if you want the short story, my relationship with my 'golden' wife fell apart, I started screwing my best friend and I killed a bunch of death eaters, but hey, we all go through rough patches, don't we?' Harry said, drinking deeply from his glass.

'Are you even the same person?' Malfoy asked, he was perplexed, 'and by best friend you don't mean Granger do you?'

'No I don't mean Granger,' Harry said, 'I mean Mrs. Hermione Weasley, the wife of my other former best friend, the ginger war hero turned prick who turned my son against me, Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley.'

'Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm detecting a touch of bitterness here,' Malfoy said matter of factly.

'You're still a fucking prick, you know that?' Harry said with a sidelong glance at the former Slytherin.

'Hey I'm a lawyer, or I was, of course I'm a prick,' Malfoy remarked.

'So now instead of being a lawyer who was a prick, you're a prick who isn't a lawyer and has nothing to do,' Harry said casually, 'so what are you gonna do Malfoy?'

'_Why_ do you want to know Potter?' Malfoy asked in complete exasperation.

'Well, you stumbled into my fine establishment here at the perfect time Malfoy,' Harry said as he drank from his glass, 'some might even call it fate.'

'Stop being dramatic and cut to the chase Potter, some things never change clearly,' Malfoy said irritably.

'Well the Russians are looking for a team of bounty hunters, but so are the Australians, so what would you prefer? Personally I prefer Australia, the pay is better and it's actually warm there,' Harry asked matter of factly.

'What the fuck are you talking about Potter?' Malfoy asked, slightly exasperated and partly intrigued.

'I'd have thought it would have been obvious Malfoy, for a Slytherin you aren't quite as smart as that goddamn hat makes your lot out to be,' Harry said with a smirk, 'I need a job further away than Egypt that doesn't involve dealing with fucking goblins, and you need something to do, preferably out of Britain.'

'You are so not asking me to be a bounty hunter with you,' Malfoy said with narrowed eyes, 'you think I'd stoop that low?'

'No, I wasn't planning on asking you Malfoy. If you must know I was planning on getting you extremely drunk, making you sign a blood contract and then pretty much kidnapping you,' Harry said casually as he finished his firewhiskey and sighed, 'ah, it gets more refreshing with every glass.'

'This is not the Potter I went to school with; did they change your personality in Auror training?' Malfoy asked, his jaw was hanging open slightly.

'No, they didn't change it. The aforementioned being screwed over by my ex-wife, in-laws and the whole being fired and hated by the press thing did.'

'Yeah, about that, why the hell do you look like the oldest goblin loving Weasel?' Malfoy asked, vaguely amused, but mostly still shocked.

'Mostly because he's the only one who's not a complete and utter fuckwit,' Harry said, 'and because it gets me girls this look.'

Malfoy snorted, 'yeah right Potter, girls! You couldn't even talk to girls without practically pissing yourself in school.'

Harry smirked at this, 'ah the innocence of youth, 20 years can change a lot,' he merely drank from yet another glass of firewhiskey.

'You can hold your liquor better than any Gryffindor I've met,' Malfoy noted.

'Yeah well I've been drinking it like this every night for 5 years, and I don't imagine you drink with very many Gryffindors,' Harry retorted, 'so what do you think of my offer? We could get paid a fortune for catching bastards and we would live by our own rules, not the bloody British Ministry's ones.'

'If it weren't for the amount of firewhiskey I've drunk I'd have said you were completely insane, as it is, I still think you're fucking insane, but I'm desperate enough I'll take practically any job, so I'm in,' Malfoy said, not actually believing what he was saying.

'Oh good, that means I won't need to go back to the original plan, I had rope behind the bar, just in case,' Harry said as he reached behind the bar, grabbed some papers and slid them over to Malfoy.

'Yeah, you don't know how glad I am about that,' Malfoy said, looking slightly disturbed.

'Just sign at the bottom, Stan will be witness,' Harry said, 'and in a week we can be on the beaches of Australia having a party in the sun with bikini-clad babes.'

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the former Gryffindor, 'how you didn't become a Slytherin amazes me.'

'I almost did actually, but that's a story for another night,' Harry said as he pointed at the bottom of the papers, 'sign.'

'Alright keep your pants on Potter, I might not have been a very good lawyer, but I still was one. I actually read contracts handed to me by ex arch enemies who tried to kill me on multiple occasions,' Malfoy said casually as he flicked to the second page of the contract.

'I saved your life as well though,' Harry said in amusement, Malfoy rolled his eyes, 'I remember.'

'Twice, actually,' Harry remarked, 'I was invisible the second time.'

'I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that,' Malfoy said as he reached the small print of the contract.

'Potter...about the small print,' Malfoy said with narrowed eyes to the ex-Gryffindor.

'What small print?' Harry asked and Malfoy had to give him his due, he was a much better liar these days.

'The part that says I have to do whatever you say in all situations,' Malfoy said as he looked suspiciously at the other man.

'Oh that part, don't worry about it, the small print is never important on these things,' Harry said as he tried to brush this off casually.

'Potter, another lawyer thing, the small print, it's a tiny bit important,' Malfoy said, his eyes still narrowed.

Harry rolled his eyes and said, 'oh alright,' and tapped the contract with his wand, changing the writing at the bottom of the page. He then turned back to the front of the bar and mumbled under his breath, 'bloody scummy lawyers who actually read the fucking small print.'

Malfoy smirked and signed the contract in blood, 'now we _are _partners Potter, but not in the Muggle way, I don't want to screw you, no offence.'

'None taken, I think I'd chose a painful torturous death before screwing you Malfoy,' Harry said simply as he took the contract from Malfoy and signed under, also in blood.

Harry then turned to the barman, 'Stan, another drink to celebrate our new business venture.'

Stan slid two drinks onto the bar and Malfoy rolled his eyes, 'bloody alcoholic Gryffindors who drink too much.'

'Shut up and drink it,' Harry said casually, adding, 'you know I think our sons are best friends.'

'I think you might be right, that specky geek who he brings him for the summer does look rather like you,' Malfoy said, downing half of his drink in one gulp.

'Who'd have thought it, us Malfoys and Potters working together, eh?' Harry said as he barked out a laugh.

'Never mind that, who'd have thought your golden son would have been a Slytherin,' Malfoy said with an amused smirk.

'I ain't surprised,' Harry said, 'he's sneaky, he'd make a good lawyer. Hell, he's my favourite kid and he's the only non-Gryffindor of the 3, what does that tell you?'

'Apart from the fact that Gryffindors are arrogant pricks?' Malfoy asked making Harry snort with laughter, 'yeah you're right on that one.'

'How come you speak like a Muggle cowboy anyway? What the hell is that about?' Malfoy asked in exasperation and amusement.

'I got bored of being normal, lived in the Muggle world for a bit and saw a tv show about cowboys in space, I thought it was pretty cool,' Harry said as he finished his drink.

'I can't believe I just agreed to work with you, and put my life in your hands,' Malfoy said in exasperation as he also finished his drink.

Harry smirked and stood up from the bar, not even wobbling a bit, 'hey I'm a good partner, now let's get out of here. We'd better get packing if we're off to Australia next week. I better go up to the school and say bye to my git of a son first though.'

'Maybe he'll like you more once you go to Australia,' Malfoy joked as he too stood up and limped out of the bar with Harry.

'You'll need to get a grip on that thing if you're going to be my partner, but don't worry, I know a spell that can heal almost anything, learnt it in the Auror trade,' Harry said casually as they reached the door and made their way into the cold, snowy night.

'How come you need me to be your partner anyway?' Malfoy asked, pulling his cloak tighter around himself as they stood in the cold.

'I ain't so good at some things, like potions,' Harry said and Malfoy snorted, 'yeah I remember.'

'So I need a partner who can help me out on the things I ain't so good at,' Harry said simply, 'and you just happened to walk into my bar on this fine evening. How's that for chance?' Harry asked with a smirk, 'I'll see you 9am tomorrow to file that contract with the Ministry, then we'll see who can really hold their liquor better,' he winked, spun on his heel and was gone in a flash.

Malfoy stood in the cold for a moment more as he thought of how bad his day had been, it was then he had a flashback, he remembered leaving the Ministry earlier that day after he'd been fired. He had heard a conversation as he passed two wizards, they had been talking rather loudly about the Hogs Head, Malfoy had then decided he'd go there for a drink because it was far away from everything and that was what he needed. That couldn't have just been chance.

'That sneaky prick!' Malfoy realised to himself, 'he engineered this whole thing!'

'He does that,' a voice said and Malfoy jumped, he turned around to see the barman, Stan, he was standing in the doorway to the pub, 'that guy should have been a Slytherin, trust me you'll have fun working with him.'

With that he disappeared back into the pub and Malfoy cursed to himself, 'fucking Gryffindors, fucking Potter!' as he spun on his heel and apparated back to his lonely manor. He had to admit as he walked up the path to the empty house he had a slight smile on his face as he thought of the Australian beaches, engineered or not, maybe going to the Hogs Head on this frosty, cold Christmas Eve hadn't been that bad an idea after all.

_**The End **_

_**A/N: Won't continue this or make it into a chapter story, sorry! Might write a sequel at some point though **_


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